


Blood is thicker than water

by upsettyspaghetty456



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Angst, Cutting, Poor Joan, Self Harm, i'm sorry Toby Marlow, poor baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28218714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/upsettyspaghetty456/pseuds/upsettyspaghetty456
Kudos: 7





	Blood is thicker than water

Joan thought that she'd played the show well. 

Joan thought that she was good. 

Maria told her that the show was good, why would Maria lie to her. 

Joan had been walking around, the queens were doing stage door between a double show day, which was stupid in Joans opinion, but why would her opinion matter, when she heard someone ask Cathy if Joan was ill, because the start of, I don’t need your love was sticky. 

Joan could have cried. 

Cathy jumped to Joans defence, saying that she didn’t notice a difference, and that Joan wasn’t ill, but it still hurt. 

She can feel tears starting to sting her eyes as she makes a beeline for the stage door, ignoring Cathy’s worried looks and mumbling an apology to Maria when Joan stumbles into her, after a few minutes of walking she reaches her office where she shuts the door and curls up on her desk chair. 

She is so stupid. Of course, she is, why on earth did she even try to twist their words into praise. Joan starts to feel the overwhelming pain that comes with these moments, it’s as if all the thoughts inside her head are pushing to get out and it hurts. ‘Your thoughts can’t hurt you’ She can hear Maria saying it and it’s not surprising that she starts to write it down on the piece of paper in front of her, then, a more overpowering thought makes its presence known to her ‘she’s lying’. In that moment everything comes crashing down as she realises that, yes, Maria is lying to her because thoughts CAN hurt you. Joan blindly reaches for her bag forgetting if it’s under the desk or on it (it was underneath her chair). After a few seconds, she grabs the strap and hauls the backpack up and slings it over her shoulder 

‘when did this get so heavy?’ 

Joan tries to walk calmly out of the room 

As Joan walks the never-ending hallways that belong to the theatre with her fists clenched tight, she slips her earphones in and puts her music on shuffle, her music is so loud that she’s confident the few people that are passing her, can hear every word, almost as clearly as Joan can herself. She can’t bring herself to turn it down though, that would increase the risk of her being spoken to and right now, she doesn’t want to speak. 

It starts with picking. Joan absentmindedly picks at the skin on her knuckles as she walks, the corridors getting more and more familiar by the second. She'll be at the dressing room soon and she’s glad. As she walks, she starts to feel sick. 

The picking no longer helps, and Joan feels the sudden urge to throw herself into the nearest wall, but she doesn’t, instead, Joan stumbles into the communal bathroom not even trying to make it back to the dressing room. 

Even the plain white walls are too bright, and the world is spinning faster and faster. Too quick, too bright, too loud, too much… 

Joan tries to fight it, she splashes water on her face, she screams at her reflection in the mirror, she pulls out her earphones and tries to appreciate the silence, but it isn’t silent. 

Joan hears the fans and the water flowing through the pipes. Joan hears the one tap that won’t stop dripping. Joan hears her own breathing, sporadic, laboured and unfocused. Joan hears everything, there is never silence. 

Joan pitches sideways with a painful retch. A hand flies to her mouth as she stumbles into a stall and drops to her knees, leaning over the toilet just before a thin stream of vomit escapes from her lips. 

‘You know how to stop this, Joan’ 

Joan willed that thought away, she hadn’t slipped up all week, she was NOT going to do it now. 

‘Just do it already, you’re so weak, it won’t make a difference’ 

Joan's eyes flicked to her bag. She could see the object inside, so delicately wrapped up in toilet roll, it was under her piano book. 

‘There’s no point pretending that you don’t deserve the pain, Joan, you know you want it, you know you NEED it’ 

That was the thought that did it. Joan lunged for her bag, she tipped it upside down in a frenzy, looking for the one small object that will bring her relief. One small thing held so much power, it had so much control over Joan and it made her feel sick. 

Finally, she saw it fall to the floor, she ripped the toilet paper away, and there it was, in all its glory. The toilet paper lay discarded, on the bathroom floor and Joan held the shiny blade in her hand, she could already feel herself getting calmer, but it wasn’t enough. She Needed more. 

As Joan picks it up, she wonders if this really will help, she wonders if it's really worth it, her costume was sleeveless, so everyone would know, but would they care?

Joan brings the blade to her skin, she drags it across her wrist once. 

It doesn't bleed quickly enough. 

Joan does it again. and again. and again.

She wants to stop, but her mind screams more. more. MORE.

When Joan looks down at her arm, it's a bloody mess, dotted lines everywhere.

Joan smiles, she feels calmer now, for a whole two seconds. She looked at her arm again, and then she realises that she has to fix it, she must fix it.  
As she goes to stand up (when did she end up on the floor?) she felt dizzy, really, really dizzy. Joan tried to grab onto the side of the stall to steady herself but she just ended up falling into it with a loud thud.

"is everything ok in there"

Shit, Maria was outside. 

"hello?"

Joan had to answer her, but Maria would know, Maria would know as soon as she spoke.

"'m ok, just fell"

"Joey? you sound sick? are you ok?"

"uh huh! 'm goood" Joan vaulted up from the floor, feeling sick again, but she starts to scrub her arm clean.

"Joan, hon, i'm coming in"

"NO! wait, I mean, i'm uh, on my period!" 

Joan heard the door to the bathroom open and Maria walk in. Her footsteps echoed in the empty room, slowly getting louder as she made her way to the sink Joan was hunched over, still scrubbing at her arm. 

"Joey..." 

"It's not what it looks like, I swear!"

Joan turns around to face Maria, hiding her arm as Maria goes to grab it, the blade falls out of Joans hand.

"Joan..."


End file.
